


Nettle

by Mockingbird (Poisoned_Woodpecker)



Series: Flower Language [1]
Category: Death Parade (Anime)
Genre: Decim/Chiyuki (Mentioned), F/F, Insomnia fic, Post-Series, headcanons yo, sad fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 16:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4027621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poisoned_Woodpecker/pseuds/Mockingbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quin starting a fight was only the beginning of Nona's troubles that week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nettle

**Author's Note:**

> Am I alive friends? I don't really know. I had about six pages of this thing written before last night, where it then morphed into 21 pages by about... 3 AM. I apologize for lack of coherence, any potential OOCness, etc. For most of the characters, this is my first experience writing them in any capacity. 
> 
> Anyway, this spawned from another fic that had accidentally been deleted, and then turned into its own thing. It will be a series of different oneshots I'll probably do using flower language. People are welcome to send me prompts, including fandom and pairing. Yep.

She didn’t really want to pick up that phone, but something told her that work couldn’t be put off any longer. “Yes?”

“I’m not sure how to word this…” Clavis? She tried to think back on how frequently he called during the decades they worked together. Maybe twice? It didn’t seem necessary, especially with his role. Things had gotten complicated recently though with everyone, and it was easy to forget how much Clavis really saw.

“Ginti and Decim are fighting again.”

Oh. That was hardly an issue. “I’m on the way.”

“Wait. Let me see if I can put her on the phone…” Clavis’ voice then grew distant, and as Nona concentrated more on the receiver, she could make out the aggressive roars from Ginti. Clavis’ voice was easily drowned by the thumps of the fight and glass shattering.

She sighed. It was going to be a long day.

“I don’t think she heard me…” No. Probably not. “Okay, so. Quin’s here.” Wait, what? Why was she… “I think she may have done something. She looks really happy over there anyway. Which is—“ Another crash, and she could just feel the wince through the phone. “Shall I come get you?!”

“That would be good. Thank you.”

It didn’t make sense, but the more Nona peeled back the world she had existed in for so very long, very little did. But Quin. Quin was always meant to make sense to her, even if she did have a habit of making very… abrupt decisions. No there was always some story to it, whether it stemmed from exhaustion or something else entirely. The fact that she usually concealed it so well before transferring was almost admirable, but Nona always knew.

If she had to guess from where, it probably had something to do with the telepathy.

 

\--

 

Nona only asked why once.

She had just started visiting Occulus for their games, and she could remember back then secretly admiring the ethereal mood of the room. It was found almost everywhere that involved work, but from the background, in a place that didn’t seem so scary when she knew how it all worked behind-the-scenes. Absolutely terrifying for humans, but for her? Business as usual. It was how she managed to get so far.

As she stepped out of the elevator the first time, it had been easy to wonder if that was how humans felt the first time they ever reached the tower. Occulus always smiled in a way that would never reach his cat eyes as he would beckon her forward with a bony, fragile hand.

She’d still receive invitations, though nowadays, Nona rarely accepted them.

Staring at the cosmos on the board had almost been calming, but the game had always been at the back of her mind. She was competitive, an ambition that had lit inside her from the day she was created, but that ambition had left lingering questions that at the moment were catching up to her.

“It’s not as fun when you’re thinking about something else.”

Her hand had tightened on the stick.

“Humor me. Please?”

Nona had sighed then and bent over to play her round. “Why telepathy?” She had smacked the planet with ease, always with precision, and had briefly relished the way it sunk into the pocket.

Occulus hadn’t bothered to look, humming. “Between you and… Quin, was it?” He had given his beard a few good pulls, brow furrowed as if he was thinking back past the centuries between them. “It seemed natural.”

“No one else received it.” She played another pass, another planet in the pocket. It would be a clean win that day.

Occulus shrugged, but there had been a certain look on his face, as if begging her to take the hook. What exactly it had been was still beyond her. “You two have been close since you started training, yes?”

“… We saw a lot of each other, being created at the same time.”

“But you kept the contact. You, specifically.” His eyes had glinted under the low light. “It’s useful, isn’t it? Even makes sense a little.”

She had studied him, seeing nothing behind the vacant face that he so easily carried on him. Whatever the real answer had been would never really be privy to her, she thought.

 

\--

 

If Clavis hadn’t called earlier, the perfect picture of calm in which he used on the way back to Quindecim would almost be convincing. He smiled and bowed as usual as he let her inside, but within seconds, she could see the oddities in his appearance. A pants leg was ripped, a few buttons misaligned, and there was a definite strain in the corners of his smile.

“How bad is it?”

“Not too much. Ginti’s angry of course, but…” and his shoulders sagged and he glanced to the lights of the elevator with a wistful sigh.  “Everything’s been so quiet since the girl left. Coming up to Quindecim like that was a shock.”

It was quiet for now, but Nona was waiting for the right time. Occulus, Decim, and indeed, Chiyuki left plenty for her to think about, and with those thoughts, the realization that it was much more complicated than it seemed. In the mean time, it was easy to play nice and plan quietly, even if some days it only seemed to be about damage control.

The doors dinged open and the normally quiet, peaceful air was cut through with a colorful array of swearing. No thuds, crashes, or various property damage though, which was an improvement. She stepped out of the threshold, turned and gave something of a polite smile to Clavis. “You can wait here if you want.”

“It is fun to watch you play boss, but I think you’re right.” He looked at his disheveled clothes with a scowl. “I have something to work on in the meantime.”

“Sorry about it.” She waited long enough for him to wave off the apology, then murmured and fussed with his coat.

The swearing quieted for a moment as Nona began to walk, but just as she rounded the corner into the large, high-ceiling room, Ginti was already in an even sharper crescendo. Even her clacking heels had been swallowed by his temper. Ginti was an angry person by nature, certainly, but the intensity was new.

The damage could’ve been worse. She could see various bottles of Quin’s old collection smashed to the floor, a few broken stools, and an unidentifiable smudge that stretched across the bar table, one that Decim was quietly wiping off. Ginti hung upside-down behind him, easily held by her bartender’s puppet strings with fire in his gold eyes. Though she tried to ignore it, she could see a small hidden smile on Decim’s lips, as if amused. And Quin sat perched between them, comfortable on one of the few intact stools left as she watched Ginti hang there helplessly.

The chatter stopped with Nona’s entrance. Ginti huffed and sharply turned his head away from her, while Decim remained as placid as ever.

“I apologize for the mess,” he said simply.

Nona could feel a headache forming. She ignored her subordinates for the moment, knowing that the image was one that she had seen plenty enough before, and decided to address the outlying element in the room. Quin still hadn’t looked at her, facing the various shelves that were now half-empty with some sort of cocktail in her hand.

“So… What are you doing?” Nona asked.

“Studying.”  She set the drink on the counter.

“Did you learn anything?”

Quin finally turned to meet her, green eyes heavy with something indiscernible. “Yes.” Then, finally, a slight, razor-thin smile as she hopped down from the stool. “You owe me, so I won’t apologize.”

“Nona-san…?” Decim’s voice was quiet, making it easy for her to shush him.

“I’ll take care of it.” Then she glanced back to Quin with a small frown. “We’ll talk somewhere else?”

“Sounds as good as any.” Her face lightened considerably at the proposal and seemed ready to follow her before she stopped mid-step, spun on her heel, and glanced at Ginti with an apologetic grimace. “Sorry. I lied.”

She’d never seen Ginti’s face twist faster. If it bothered Quin at all, she didn’t show it as she took the lead back down the hall. Nona only hesitated briefly, making sure the aggression had been suitably doused and indeed found only a wounded disposition on both of them. Just enough to make sure there wouldn’t be another war when she left.

Nona’s pace quickened, whether it was out of frustration or curiosity she wasn’t sure. Though it still was, the interruption wasn’t really much of a problem, but the idea that Quin was moving, thinking in a way that would disrupt her time without telling her was almost offensive. Answers always came though, whether it was now or later.

At the very least, there didn’t seem to be any hard feelings. Clavis and Quin already seemed to be exchanging jokes with each other by the time she returned to the elevators, all with generous, if tired, smiles. Clavis straightened once he saw her, back to the almost professional demeanor he tried to maintain around her.

“Back to your house?”

“Might as well.”

Quin brightened considerably at the prospect, and everyone slipped inside the elevator without much complaint. It didn’t take long for the silence to be broken once those doors close.

“Please tell me you restocked on the wine.” She felt an inkling, like a touch barely brushing against her shoulder—feathery, warm.

Nona welcomed it with the barest hints of a smile on her face, and saw the tension leave both of them. “I know you won’t come over otherwise.”

_Are you mad?_ A brush against her ear, echoing inside her mind, and despite the serious question, her smile widened.

Clavis remained as placid as ever.

_No._ The sigh that escaped Quin was audible. _What did you say to Ginti?_

_Nothing bad. Just that Decim thought he was wrong for sending that school girl to the void… or something like that. Was kinda surprised he fell for it._

Of course he did. She didn’t know what had happened those few days, being too focused on how Decim and Chiyuki progressed. However, whatever had happened left an irreparable hole in how Ginti thought. He was still recovering too, like the rest of them.

_I should scold you for opening wounds like that._

_But you won’t._

She should argue against that, stand tall as the manager she was meant to be even for her, but as the smile on Quin’s face was passed to her, one that had a little bit of that energy back, the sort she hadn’t seen in so long, Nona found the arguments stuffed down before she could even form them.

_So I owe you…?_

_You know, for ruining my life and all that._

_You **wanted** to leave, Quin. I made a suggestion so you didn’t end up serving groceries to your replacement. Would you’ve preferred that?_

Quin snorted back a small bout of laughter, earning a glance back from Clavis- head tilt with a mischievous smile that promises nothing but trouble. They’ve been caught, and Nona couldn’t help being a sore loser in it. But it was fair there, because Clavis—Clavis was always a very sore winner too.

“Really? You two are doing this again?!” He exclaimed in what was clearly a mocking, exasperating voice. “You know how left out I feel when you just talk in your heads. What’s the big secret this time?”

“Only the greatest trade secret of all: how to get two men to fight for you.” Quin was quick on the draw, easily diverting the truth, while still not really lying about it. It was a shame she hated their work—the woman could be more akin to a snake when she was sober.

“And to think you actually have time for this, Quin. Maybe we should add a few more corpses for you to sort through.”

“Only if you’re going to bring more drinks. I can barely stand you two sober, much less those things.”

“Ginti finds me pleasant, unlike you.”

“I need someone that thinks more than how to best get the humans to hate each other.”

“Oh so no wonder you hang around Nona so much.”

That gave Quin pause, a remark that normally would’ve been nothing to her. Though it was only for a second, Nona caught it, knew it was there and out of place from the routine, like so much that was happening today. Her brow briefly furrowed, bottom lip curling into an expression that seemed mixed. Mostly frustrated, but as if a thought crossed her that had unsettled her.

However, with a blink, it was gone. “It’s mostly the supply she gives me, if I’m honest. And the telepathy thing makes it easier.”

It didn’t sting like it should’ve, but they kept a rhythm going despite it. It wasn’t hard to take a step back then, to look and watch, and wonder. Quin’d always been there, one way or another. A door had been opened with Chiyuki, hadn’t it? For all of them.

Suddenly, Nona couldn’t help worrying where the end result would take them.

 

\--

 

“How many?”

“Two. The usual.”

“I feel like we need more tonight.”

They were inside this time, settling themselves on the few pillows Nona could spare, and Quin—Quin had already finished half of the bottle between them, and it was easy to see how her expression already soured, cheeks flushed, and wavering on her makeshift seat on the floor. It was a familiar sight, one Nona passively watched on the bench by the window, curtains drawn to shield them away from curious eyes—whether it was flowerhead or Castra, or whoever.

Their conversation wasn’t done, and as patient as Nona was, it was never fun to drag the truth out of her friend.

“Maybe I should get like… like five. Five sounds good. You think we get alcohol poisoning?”

“If anyone is going to find out, it’s you.”

“Yeah, and it’s your fault…” And then Quin settled, her expression withdrawing as she focused past her, to the glass that remained cold against Nona’s back. “… But it’s mine too. Isn’t it?”

She sighed, and scooted down on the floor, down to equal level so there was little escape for both of them. They’d been putting it off forever, Nona realized—that little conversation and doubt about what had happened five years ago. It was easy to brush it off when she needed to focus on not getting caught, and even as it still was a worry, the stress wasn’t there. Not anymore. “What happened, Quin? What were you doing?”

Quin’s scowl deepened before she snatched the wine bottle up once more and took a long, agonizing swig. “That’s your fault too.”

“I know.”

She set the bottle between them, even as she kept her focus on it, as if the call for more was constant inside her. “I really want all of this to work. Honest. If you get all of this right, none of us will have to bend over backwards like this. It’s why I’m helping. … You know, other than the presents.”

“You do always need an added bonus.”

“Right? Anyway… Anyway…” She gulped, and tipped back, staring at the ceiling as if to count the tiles and cracks. “We’re fighting to better everything… but neither of us really understand how humans work, do we?”

“Maybe.”

“There are two things I know motivates humans the most. Things above anything else, and I…” She looked back, and she saw something simmering underneath the green eye that she could still see. “I really thought I was onto something. I mean, the first time you noticed Decim change, it was out of anger wasn’t it? Hatred, violence.”

And it clicked, a memory that hadn’t been so much forgotten, but buried with everything else that had happened in between, a minor detail lost in reports and plans and ideas and blueprints, years that changed everything.

“Of course you’d think that was right,” Nona said and something burned inside of her. “You were a special ranked arbiter for a year before you transferred. That’s all you can remember.”

“Not… all.” She ran a hand through her hair, careful not to disturb the eyepatch, even though it seemed inappropriate now. “Sometimes I hold onto things when I sort through memories—only on the slow days. Try to see what they were feeling during the time. … In a way, I kinda envy them.”

“Quin, that’s—“

“I know.” With that, she finished the bottle, and Nona tried to ignore how much the wine burned inside her nostrils, how quickly and forcefully Quin reeked of it. “I really don’t like humans, but maybe… maybe you’re right about that memory thing.”

Of course she had been. They both knew how it all worked, the slow process of replacing the old with the new.

Whether it was from the wine or something out of Nona’s reach, she saw how Quin slowly became something fragile, vulnerable underneath her study. Her eye was glossy before she focused on the tile floor, to the lip of the bottle as if wishing more would bubble out. “We were both there, once. Did they make you forget how those people thought?”

Nona wasn’t sure anymore.

“Why should I care about them? All they gave me were reasons to see them in the void. I used to appreciate all of it, right. But you just spend months remembering anger and more anger, and the absolute worst that anyone could imagine out of those things. All I understood by the end of it was hatred and despair.” A laugh escaped her, but it was so broken, reminded her of hard plastic and how Chiyuki’s skin had started to flake before she left.

“I know.”

Quin shook her head. “Not anymore. But now, at least, I get to see other things too. Things the bureau keeps from the grunts.” She tipped the bottle over, watching as it klinked and rolled across her floor. “… Anyway, that part’s over with. I’m better now.”

But she wasn’t.

“And I know how well it worked out for you, sticking me up in that place. If it’s not cruelty that drives them, then I’m glad I got out. I was starting to think they were just made of the stuff.”

What else was Quin hiding? Nona wanted to dig, find the line and path was there. But now she saw it—the difference that rested between them.

“I have another theory, and I just want to see. Think it might influence humans a lot more, though I can’t really remember it too well anymore.”

Nona glanced to her and saw the smile back on her face, even as the exhaustion seemed more obvious than ever. “Why are you so interested in this now?”

“You never really got that part,” her smile softened. “It’s always been about you. You driving all of us to this point.” Quin reached up, pulling on the straps of her eye-patch and letting it fall to the floor.

It shouldn’t have surprised her that eye matched the other, but still did.

“The best you could do is follow through.”

 

\--

 

“I need to stop letting you get ideas while you’re drunk. And convincing me of it.”

“You’re actually sober this time.”

Nona sure as hell didn’t feel like it. She felt… tired, and embarrassed, and everything that could possibly cross her mind in that moment. It was bad enough of her to admit that the bed was big enough for both of them, and that indeed, it was a bit late for Quin. And that maybe she had a gown in her size, and maybe it wasn’t so bad to see her friend in something other than the outfit that she wore to work for once.

They weren’t even touching with their backs to each other like this. It didn’t make any sense, but when did it ever make sense? Maybe this was all a way to test Nona’s sanity while she was managing everyone.

“Did Occulus put you up to this?”

“Flower-head never liked me as much as you.”

“Small wonder.”

The house was just as quiet and still as when they first walked in. All things considered, no one would find out that they spent an evening in the same bed. She could feel, even count the number of breaths Quin took behind her, the slow movement of her chest rising and falling, how every once and a while she would adjust to something that was a little more comfortable, occasionally feel a foot brush against her calf underneath the white sheets.

“So… Intimacy was your other theory?”

She heard the sheets shift, the springs giving weight to Quin’s squirming. “Does it bother you?”

“Truthfully I think you just enjoy unsettling me.”

Nona could imagine her smile, still a little worn around the edges—now weighed down by drowsiness. “Can you explain it any other way? How much they all connect with each other?”

She still huffed. “Then watch Ginti and Decim make up or something.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten any wine out of it.”

“Oh so this was your plan all along?” Quin didn’t respond. It was easy to draw up that old human saying then, relish in the morbid humor that came with it. “You’ll be the death of me, I swear.”

She snorted beside her, and perhaps, hid the grin from view, burying her head in the sheets. Well, at least one of them was enjoying themselves, but they had eternity to figure it out. How long had they known each other now? Forever, it seemed, and for humans, beyond the scope of human existence, certainly.

The silence was comfortable, and even with the weirdness of company in her bed, it didn’t take long for Nona to sink and fade from consciousness, to that in between that touched her just before falling asleep. The slow breaths became part of the noise that lulled her, even the feeling of someone being there. The thought of company… it never really hurt to think of it that way. Company was good.

Like humans, they needed it too, she supposed. Maybe that was the point between them, and why arbiters always learned as pairs.

At first, it was just a thought. She heard the springs of the mattress shift as Quin turned over. Her eyes, both of them that bright, once lively green watching her, studying the shape of her back from what could be gathered by her gown and sheets. She couldn’t help feeling something intense, not unlike the way Occulus watched her sometimes, but more personal from Quin, almost scary—vulnerable.

If this was what weakness meant, Nona wasn’t sure she wanted it. The arms still came around her though, Quin tightly holding her middle, pulling her close. She buried her head into her silver hair and sighed deeply. And Nona laid there for a long moment, wondering if maybe she was more sober than she should be.

It was too nice, this time feeling the steady breaths, the way her eyelashes fluttered against her skin, and how the silence seemed to grow into something tranquil, if private. Oh. So this was…

Nona turned over. Quin’s muscles stiffened and she seemed about ready to pull away before Nona placed a small hand against her collarbone, shushing her quietly in the dark. She let her head lull to the crook of the arbiter’s neck, tried to gather and reach out for the memories that had seemed lost for so long now. And maybe there was something left to feel with the way the stress unwound from both of them.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad either. In the end, it was easy to look out at a distance, always with an idea that it would always be business as usual. No. That wouldn’t be the case for any of them. The door that had opened would thrive, and maybe, temptation would always be there.

If it lessened the burdens on her friend, her closest friend, then how bad could that really be?

 

\--

 

Before she opened her eyes, fully became aware of the world around her, she knew Quin was gone. She wasn’t sure if that was something that should’ve worried her, but it didn’t. There were few places where she could hide that Nona couldn’t track down eventually. In any case, whatever she felt the night before had been long gone by then, and like always, it was business as usual.

She just appreciated that for her morning routine at least, it would remain quiet. Nona was never a late sleeper, and that wasn’t just with her work. To sleep longer than ‘necessary’ was to waste time, and like everyone else, Nona had little of that these days.

That would change though, eventually. Maybe Quin’s studying would help with that, so that the next experiment, if it came at all, wouldn’t be nearly so… dramatic. Even after so long, it was easy to remember Decim sobbing in that woman’s arms, and sitting there wondering if the suffering that had broken him was so worth understanding the world just a little bit more.

The goal was so much closer, but still frustratingly far away, and now, it was affecting her relationship with those closest to her too.  She hated the idea of her actions being so insignificant, but then turning around to see that the gears were turning faster in the people that surrounded her.

After all, Quin was still hiding something from her, and the fact that she already left was proof of that in her eyes. She did her best to ignore that as she got ready for the work day, something that would be examined again later, when there was a moment spared for introspection.

Or it would come to her, as the case turned out to be. Clavis waited for her on the front porch, sitting at the steps and watching the mist and the birds chirping.

“I hadn’t called for you yet.”

“Quin did. I thought it was a little weird, so I thought I’d wait anyway.” He stood up, brushed his pants off. He looked more intact than he did yesterday. He then studied her with the most serious face that Nona thought he could muster. “… Is she alright?”

“Why?”

“She just seemed… distracted in the elevator. You didn’t fire her or anything, did you?”

Nona looked at him.

“… I had to ask.”

Yes. Definitely still hiding something from her, and being absolutely terrible at it. “Did she say anything?”

“Not really.” Though Clavis then looked a little thoughtful. “Oh, she did ask me something!”

Another part of the experiment perhaps? It was easy to see that again, her routine would take a detour, and with her destination already in mind, she began her well-worn path to the tower, fully knowing that Clavis wasn’t long behind her. “Did she return to work?”

“Don’t you wanna know what she asked?”

“Was it that alarming?”

“Well… kinda. Not as weird as when… you know, when she wanted to quit. But I think you might want to know.”

She stopped and looked back. Clavis stood ramrod straight, tense from his shoulders down to his feet. Neither of them had talked about it since it happened, that day. Nona could already feel the scowl forming again.

“She asked me what I thought love felt like.”

“And…?”

Clavis rubbed the back of his neck. “Well. I said she’d know better than me, since she’s been an arbiter before. I… I don’t think she liked the answer very much.” Then his voice grew quiet, frustrated. “… Like the thought scared her.”

Maybe she didn’t want to know what Quin was hiding after all.

“After coming from your place, well… you have to wonder a little. I’d never really seen her open about anything like that. Not…”

“I’ll take care of it. Just take me to the Bureau.”

Clavis nodded and opened the doors with a stern look. She was starting to miss his smiles too, but clearly, the past few days hadn’t been kind to him in the slightest. A question was still stirring inside of him, she thought, with the way he bit the inside of his cheek as the doors closed behind him.  He didn’t even bother to turn to the buttons as they started moving.

“Well… you think love works that way?”

“What?”

He flinched, as if uncertain if he really should finish the thought. “You grow up with someone, spend your entire life with them… support them even when one of you moves up in the world. Childhood friends always talk, but there’s always something different—“

“I get it.” But not really. Just enough to keep him from going on with the train of thought. Life didn’t work that way—they didn’t work that way without life. It was as if Clavis thought she never read a single story in her life, but without the grand gestures, with that rush of emotions, how could he even suggest she…

“It’s a thought anyway. You two know better, of course…”

They didn’t, and for them to go from feeling nothing to feeling everything like love seemed to do? They were better not to understand it. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want to lose it, to feel and to really understand what it was to suffer like they did—even if it meant really understanding what it meant to live too.

“Sorry you got involved,” she finally conceded gently, just as the elevator stopped. Clavis only smiled and bowed with the opening of the doors, just the same as it had ever been.

It was truly paradoxical; to want everything to change and then nothing change. Some ways, it was almost too much to wonder how close they were to the things they tried so hard to masquerade as.

The air was quiet, only disrupted by the clattering of stones in the worker’s spaces. Each of them wore a similar look Quin did, weighted by something that was sometimes too hard to comprehend. It all seemed too sterile for them, much like the lab coats they all wore. Yet, even as Nona thought to change their world, it was hard to imagine the role of memories and their importance being any different. Humans learned and became what they were from their experiences. To remove that from the equation was simply unfathomable.

Quin’s station wasn’t hard to find, toward the edges of the farthest room from the elevator, the crown of brown hair too familiar of a sight to not find among the masses too busy sorting through the memories to look up. She was no different, even when the emotions and tiredness was easier to see from the years spent together, from knowing what the before looked like too.

She saw how delicate she sorted through them, a precision and curiosity that Nona had always found admirable since their time they spent as coworkers, rather than boss and subordinate. Quin denied it now… No, not denied.

That curiosity ruined her, was ruining her, and for whatever reason, Nona was given the power to do something about it. So she called for her in her mind, with a soft, discreet, _Quin._

Quin stopped for just a moment, acknowledging the intrusion in her train of thought, and she realized distantly that there’d been something disjointed about the touch. It seemed she hadn’t shaken that conversation with Clavis. Not yet. _This isn’t really a good time._

_It never is with work. I need you down here._

Quin looked back briefly with an annoyed leer. _It can’t wait until I’m not sorting through this stuff? I need to think for the whole system to work. Like you keep saying._

Nona’s mouth twitched. _Clavis told me what happened when you left._

This time, truthfully and completely, she stopped. Her thoughts stopped, and if she was high enough, not so hidden in the darkness, she thought she would’ve seen her shake. _I can’t believe you’re taking that seriously._

_You’re the one that asked._

_Now’s not a good time._ And she started again, just before a second pile of rocks joined her desk, eliciting a small groan from the woman. _You know how awful this is going to be if I mix these damn memories up? Hate for your boy to get them._

She sighed, bit down on her bottom lip, and finally looked back down. Then, Nona finally saw the rings forming around her eyes, the way her exhaustion seemed to be wracking through her, and she felt something, just the barest traces of a heavy thought, one that was difficult to shake. She didn’t sleep last night, not nearly as much she thought she had. And the concern that ripped through her wasn’t something she could shake away.

_It’s just between us. You… You look like you might need it._

_I haven’t scared you in a long time, have I?_

Oh, but the concern never really went away when it came to her, did it? Nona curled her fists, decided it was a thought that didn’t need to be fought with, not right now when there seemed to be so much more that needed to be talked about, thought about. _They can spare an hour._

Quin waved to the shadows, to the distant figures that handled the machines themselves, shutting off the pipeline that led to her station, but even Nona could tell from her position below that it was done reluctantly from both sides. They couldn’t afford it, not with the rate still going like it was, but she had always believed that the work needed to be good to be seen at all. Quin was one of her best, supposed to be one of her best, and if the thoughts distracted her like they did, it was worth cutting her off for now. Just until this was all settled.

She finished the two portraits that had still been left on her desk, sending them down the conveyer belt with a defeated sigh before getting up from her seat and meeting her down at the ground level. “You know they’ll hate you for this,” she said as soon as they were eye level.

“I can worry about that later.” She nodded to the hallway, keeping herself as placid and calm as she could. “Would the elevator room be fine? Clavis won’t come unless I want him too.”

“I rather we didn’t do this at all, but fine.” Ever reluctantly compliant, Quin followed her through the maze of rooms, back to the start. It was easy to remember how mesmerized her companion had initially been about the place, the intricate network of the machinery and their desks, from the simplicity of their eyepatch to the kiln that crystalized the memories. She didn’t know what it meant then, and perhaps Nona should feel guilty, for having kept quiet about it then.

They had never been this tense around each other before. Quin always had her little comments, and Nona always had her little rebuffs, but never had they stood there with so much distance between them. As they reached that hallway, Nona never felt it more sullen than it had been in that moment, so thick with the questions that burned inside her.

“Did you find your answers?” she began, offering a taut grimace as whatever little comfort it could bring.

“I don’t know.” Quin shrugged. “I’m not sure I ever will at this point. … Seems kinda stupid now without the wine there.”

“Is it?”

Quin spluttered, struggling with her own words out of frustration. “So maybe you should tell me then, if you’re so worried about it. You think you remember what love looks like?”

“No.”

“Then why is this worrying you?”

“Because I think you do.”

Her averted gaze said everything and nothing all at once. They were still moving in circles, she thought, and maybe, they had been for a while. But when Quin looked back, there was a fire in her green eye, one that Nona hadn’t seen in a very long time. “How do you think we have friends?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then what stops us from having lovers? Is it really so weird?”

Nona didn’t know. “If I can’t answer the first question…”

“I mean, really. How can we _not_ feel something, Nona?! Something changes us when we judge people, and I think the people that judge the murderers are probably the craziest bunch we’ve got. When I was there, I felt it all. We have to feel it all. What do you think those memories are?!”

It wasn’t just something. It was a lot of things, and the outburst, the rambling, it wasn’t so unfamiliar now. Maybe Nona never really knew anything. After all, if she could keep thoughts to herself, couldn’t…

“It used to frustrate me when I was judging all of it, but here? Here it makes so much damn sense, and I can’t do a thing about it because if we just stop for one second, everything gets screwed up! But if I have the time, if I can just make myself remember, and we can do that. They’re not _gone._ They’re never gone.”

Her voice died in her throat.

“But it’s still in this jumbled mess. Was that from one person, was that from another? Can I even remember why those feelings are there at all?! … I feel for those arbiters so much. At least I get the whole picture. They only get the pieces we like. The ones we think work, and you know, it’s usually the worst of it.”

It wasn’t just a drunken her. No, those ideas may have always been there, and maybe, she spent a little too much time thinking up there. “Quin—“

“If I saw love in any of it, with all of those angry people… if it really is what make people work, why not hold onto it?”

There’s a thousand in her mind, but only one question breaks through, breaks out of the rant that had been forced on her, one that only made half-sense to her with the memories that had left her, replaced by ones working and managing and wondering what was beyond her. “Why me?”

She saw the fire extinguish just as quickly. Quin seemed all too human at that moment, the way she brushed her bangs back and ducked her eye away. “That’s a little reaching isn’t it?”

It was a serious conversation, but something about it almost made her laugh. “Who else? Occulus?”

“Castra might make a good… well. Not even sure what the word for it is.”

“Lover. And you’re too headstrong for her. She likes them stupid.”

Quin didn’t laugh, but there was a small smile, one that was familiar to them both, the sort that still was genuine but barely touched the feelings she really felt. _Yeah. All thanks to you._ That was really an awful thing to say, wasn’t it? “Then you answered your own question.”

“You shouldn’t love at all, Quin.”

“Yeah… Yeah.” Her face fell, and she tried to reach for something that wasn’t there, just right by her side. Her fingers still curled. “Does it… I don’t know. Does it bother you? That’s the thing when I make myself remember what feelings look like. I can’t really make them go away either.”

“I hear humans have a problem with that. It’s good you’re not.”

She scowled. “So what? I should just ignore them? What’s the point of that?”

There wasn’t, but becoming the test subject didn’t have a point either. When she gave it much thought, she wondered if that was an appropriate response though. In those few memories left behind, the ones that reminded her of how unpredictable humans really could be, those confessions and arguments were always more emotional, but even with something so personal, Nona couldn’t help being wooden. There wasn’t anything for her to reach out with, only the question.

“Why me?”

“Maybe because I know better.” The smile was honest, but fragile. “Who else would put up with me this long? Anyone else would’ve gotten rid of me by now. The grocery thing doesn’t seem so bad.”

“Anyone who’d do that doesn’t know you. Not like I do.”

Quin laughed. “See? Humans hear that and they fall in love. This is obviously your fault too. Now I’m just stuck.”

But it hurt. It shouldn’t, but it did. In the end, she couldn’t reach out for something that wasn’t there, not in a place that she hadn’t began to understand like Quin did. It was strange but almost exhilarating thinking of it that way, how they both reached different places. It would be a topic that would be thought about later, when it stung a little less, when she wanted to do and be something she couldn’t.

Quin looked at her with a grimace that on anyone else would be patronizing, but she saw the hurt there too, and Nona… Nona just wanted to fix all of it. “It’s just not…” she tried to explain it, but for once, the words just weren’t there. “I’m sorry, Quin.”

She shrugged, and walked past her, back to work, back to the numbness that they were supposed to understand better. “It’s alright. Maybe another decade or so. Nice thing about never dying.”

But Quin was already far ahead of her. She didn’t know how to catch up.

 

\--

 

Nona accepted the invitation this time. Had to. Despite the days where they both played along, acted like nothing had happened, the experiment was starting to burn a hole inside of her. She could lose anything. Anything at all. But to lose Quin? To lose the one constant that had always been there that wasn’t always attached to business? It would’ve been far too much.

And the way Occulus watched her, it was as if he knew already. Maybe he did. “I can always tell when you’re elsewhere.”

She hadn’t even made her first play yet, tightening the grip on the stick. “Why the telepathy?”

He chuckled. “Still hung up on that, are we?”

“Your reasons sucked last time.”

Occulus leaned against the billiards board, tugging at his beard. “So something happened between you and Quin? That’s really a shame, though she’s not nearly as fun as you are.”

She glanced toward him and found her anger boiling at the mirth in his eyes. “You’ve invited her up here?”

“Of course. I always make exceptions to your friends.” He then sighed, melodramatically slumping his shoulders with a pout. “You must see it too. She stays too distracted to do much of anything. It’s so depressing~. She’s depressing.”

“That’s not…”

“The telepathy helps her some.” Was that a real answer? She nearly dropped her pool stick. “But she gets bogged down by every little thing. It’s a wonder why she was ever good at judging in the first place. The power was really more for your benefit.”

No. No, it was more of the same circling, just now a different path for it to trace. “So you like distracting me.”

The grin that fell on his face was unsettling, the first time in a long while that Nona felt small in his presence. “You think you would’ve stayed sane otherwise? The void does that. The souls you two were made of… I’ve never seen a heavier burden.”

And there was an apology that never reached his lips, as impossible as it seemed in her mind.

 

\--

 

If there was one thing that stayed in Quindecim, it was the delicacy and quality of the drinks. Decim didn’t ask why she was there, something that she appreciated more than she could openly admit. He only offered a warm smile, as if truly welcoming a dear friend before he saw the thoughts that weighed her down and began to look at his collection to offer some modicum of comfort.

She was pleased to see that he took care to replace many of Quin’s spirits, even the more expensive tastes that took her months to save and collect, and the gifts she had passed to her over the decades that they directly worked together. He set two glasses on the bar table for them both, and poured her usual, quickly earning a smile from her lips.

“If I must confess, Nona-san, I did not expect you to come to me for advice,” he said before passing one of the glasses to her.

“I think you might be the only one who can answer.”

He frowned, but seemed to respect her remark as a compliment, even straightening up with a small, polite cough. “Then I will do my best to answer.”

“Did you love Chiyuki-san?”

He furrowed his brow in a clearly thoughtful gesture, but not one that was hurt like Nona half-expected. On instinct, they both looked to the dummy that sat in the chair that greeted those that came in. Nona couldn’t help appreciating the smile that remained forever on her lips.

“… I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I know things… changed with her. How I felt about people. About how we do things.”

Nona huffed and settled her chin in her hand. One of these days, maybe, she would find someone with a clearer answer. Maybe another dummy with human emotions, but ah, that wouldn’t be for a long time, at least. Occulus wasn’t letting her anywhere near there now.

“But,” and she looked back as he spoke again, “… Perhaps it was close. Even as I have changed how Quindecim works… I still have not desired to understand someone nearly as much as I did Chiyuki-san.”

This new side of him—the honest one. It was refreshing. “And you think that’s love?”

“No. But I think it might be the beginning of it.” He took a sip of his own drink then, as if to give himself courage for what he was about to say. “… Humans always seek to understand those closest to them the most. Sometimes it hurts them to, but… I am not sure they know anything else. It is part of living in the best possible manner.”

“A sick compassion, isn’t it?”

He seemed surprised by the assessment. “Sick? No. To love the people around you, that is… that always leads to something fulfilling for them. That is to be respected.”

Maybe there was a point to that, as simplistic as it seemed to be. To desire the people around them had always been a constant, and it was so easy to remember that. And how, they too, seemed to try the same thing. At least, Quin seemed to. It would’ve been fine to have something less agonizing, where she wasn’t kept at night looking and searching for the remnants of emotions that had been left behind.

“May I ask you something, Nona-san?”

She didn’t look at him, not directly. “Go ahead.”

“Is this why Quin-san was here the other day?”

Her behavior was infectious. The days had been turned into something long, and tiring, and with various, bitter sympathies to Quin for the many days she had spent a tired wreck.  The wait shouldn’t kill her, shouldn’t stretch her thin. But the old memories were starting to creep back, perhaps. Had been since she saw the pain between both of them, and how she wanted to feel enough to cry for it—to truly suffer for it.

She downed her glass, trying to ignore how painful the grimace felt on her lips. The dummy still smiled and waited for the guests that would come later in the day, and still, Nona felt tired. Just so tired.

“I think that girl may have ruined us all.”

Decim only smiled in response, and Nona couldn’t ignore the sympathy that was clear in his eyes.

 

\--

 

_I was starting to think you actually died on me. Like for real died._

_Please. Don’t regret any of it. I… I want you here._

_Regret’s what I’m best at. But maybe, maybe just for you. Drinks later?_

She broke out in a small grin, not so much that she couldn’t hide it if she needed to. If they were all going to be a part of this, this experiment, then it was going to be on her terms and her terms alone. After all, it was what Nona did best.


End file.
